


Somewhere a Clock is Ticking

by sartiebodyshots



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: F/F, Kashyyyk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-09-15 11:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9234065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sartiebodyshots/pseuds/sartiebodyshots
Summary: Deep in the Shadowlands of Kashyyyk, Bastila watches in worry as Arlunia talks with the ancient computer guarding the Star Map about personality profiles.





	

Kashyyyk isn’t Bastila’s favorite place.  They’ve been down in the Shadowlands forever, and she doesn’t appreciate not being able to see the sun.  Not to mention, Jedi robes and overgrowth don’t mix well.  

Of course, Jolee has no trouble navigating the forest.  She vaguely remembers hearing about a Jedi who left the order after the war with Exar Kun, but she doesn’t remember enough to know if this is him.  At least she doesn’t detect any obvious signs of the dark side, which is impressive considering the depths of Kashyyyk is steeped in it.  

Arlunia similarly seems to have no trouble with branches snagging at her sleeves or tangling in her hair.  Another thing that doesn’t surprise Bastila.  

Bastila’s sleeve gets stuck in yet another branch and she struggles with untangling it, only to immediately trip over a root right after.  She barely catches herself, dirt now staining her palms.  That her companions haven’t seemed to notice her distress irks her a little.  It would’ve been nice of them to wait.  

Then she realizes that they’re talking to some computer interface and she jogs- carefully- to catch up.  

All she catches of the back and forth between the computer and Arlunia is the computer talking about personality profiles.  The talk makes Bastila’s blood run cold.  After all, Revan must have come through here before, and the computer may very well note the, ah, interference by the Jedi Council.  This is precisely what Bastila is supposed to ward against, and yet there’s no way to take her place- she’s not even sure she could.  

The computer lays out a scenario where Arlunia and Zaalbar have been captured together and their captors offer them both a choice: betray the other to receive a shorter sentence or stay silent and risk a larger one.  Arlunia easily answers that she would betray Zaalbar, which the computer accepts as the correct answer.

Bastila tries to ignore the sudden sweat that breaks out as Arlunia asks about what pattern the computer is comparing her to.  Luckily, the computer seems unable to give answers.

The computer outlines another moral scenario.  This time, as the commander of a military force at war, she has to decide whether to sacrifice her own city or attack the enemy at its weakest point.  

Arlunia tilts her head, chewing on her lip as she thinks it through.  She has a far off look in her eyes that always worries Bastila, and that worry only increases under the circumstances.  

“Prepare the forces.  Ignore the city,” Arlunia says decisively.  

The computer accepts that answer, which doesn’t reassure Bastila in the slightest.

“It’s not about the victory itself,” Arlunia clarifies.  “You stop the war and many more lives are saved.”

“You achieved the proper result with logic that does not match the pattern in memory. I shall adjust my evaluation,” the computer says.  

That’s… good, right?  Basila can’t even tell anymore.  

The final question alters the scenario only slightly: there’s no greater war, just a complacent state and an impending attack coupled with a weakness.  It sounds more than a little familiar.  

“Let the attack happen.  A great bloating empire is doomed to failure,” Arlunia says.

Unsurprisingly, this is what the computer wants.  They gather the Star Map without any further trouble, but Bastila feels ill at ease nevertheless.

* * *

One phrase from the computer sticks out in her mind as they make the trek back towards the surface.   _ Soon you will recognize the proper course to follow. _  The computer clearly knew that Arlunia was Revan, altered.  

But maybe it’s more than that.  Of late, Bastila has noticed Arlunia staring into the mid distance more and more, coupled with outbursts of irritation over seemingly mundane things.  She wonders if Arlunia is at least starting to inch towards the truth; perhaps not the full truth, but at least the fact that someone purposefully overwrote her identity.  

Bastila fiddles with the comm, not sure if she wants to contact Dantooine or not.  She needs advice, she needs help, but she also wants to demonstrate to the masters that she’s capable of handling the mission that she’s been assigned.  It’s not like there’s anything they could do anyway.

If only there was someone else on this ship she could at least talk to.  She may be seeing smoke where there is no fire, which would mean that attempting to interfere in any way would only make matters worse.

The decision is put on hold when Arlunia’s head pokes through the door.  Her hair, usually kept up in a braid on missions, flows freely down to her shoulders.  She’s clearly just gotten out of the refresher, as she’s slightly damp but no longer carrying the heavy scent of Kashyyyk with her.  

Despite her cleanliness, she doesn’t look refreshed.  Instead, a cloud of worry hangs overhead as she looks in on Bastila.  

“Can I come in?” Arlunia asks.  

“Of course,” Bastila says.  

Arlunia takes a few steps inside the cockpit, looking cautious.  She examines the nav computer with far more interest than it requires.  

“Kashyyyk was weird,” she finally says.  “None of the other Star Maps have been protected.”

“I’m surprised that we haven’t run into some kind of countermeasure before,” Bastila says.

“Apart from the krayt dragon, you mean?” Arlunia says, smirking at the screen.

“That was coincidence and the lure of the dark side,” Bastila says.

Arlunia shrugs a little, tapping at something at the screen with a fingernail.  “Maybe.  But why did the computer let me in?”

“I don’t know,” Bastila says.  

“Yeah, I know,” Arlunia says.  Sighing, she crosses the cockpit, settling in the captain’s chair.  She rests her feet on the dashboard, even though she knows that Carth hates it- probably because she knows he hates it, actually.  The picture of casual nonchalance.  A ruse, but a convincing one.  “It just doesn’t make any sense.”

Bastila stares resolutely out the viewport.  She doesn’t need to see the look of frustration that she knows is painted on Arlunia’s face.  

“I know we argue a lot, but I really do feel better talking to you,” Arlunia says.  “I trust you, Bastila.  Not a lot really makes sense these days, but you do.”

She doesn’t want to turn to look at the other woman.  Whether her eyes are wide and trusting or clouded and upset, Bastila knows that it’ll be painful.  The better choice is to let her eyes slide shut, as if in contemplation.  

“I enjoy your company, too,” Bastila says.  

“Aah, I knew it,” Arlunia says, with a sad echo of a laugh.  “I knew you liked me.”

Bastila flushes, embarrassed at her own admission.  

“Anyway… I just think it’s weird.  The computer was obviously reprogrammed by Revan.  I don’t think I’ve ever met any Sith Lords.” Arlunia clicks her tongue.  “You’d think I’d remember that.”

“Revan didn’t always make sense.  She did seek to destroy the Republic after saving it from the Mandalorians,” Bastila says, voice catching.  Her throat has suddenly become arid.  “It was an old system, too.  Perhaps it was broken.”

Arlunia is silent for so long that Bastila can’t keep her eyes closed any longer.  Her face is lit up by the hyperspace shooting by them, throwing her frustration in sharp relief.  No longer looking relaxed, her fingers dig into the armrests and her jaw is clenched.  It’s like she’s trying to force recent events to make sense by sheer force of will.

The impulse to reach out is too strong to ignore, and Bastila squeezes her arm.  It doesn’t seem to have the desired, soothing effect.  Instead, Arlunia’s feet land on the floor with heavy thuds on the durasteel floor, back rigid as she leans forward.  

Bastila has never been good at this.  The Jedi are insular, and Bastila was kept apart even from many of her peers.  She’s rarely been called upon to comfort an upset… friend.  That’s setting aside the additional complications of trying to comfort the person that she’s keeping an important secret from.  If she ignored her orders, she could end Arlunia’s confusion.  

“Perhaps…” Bastila’s voice is barely a whisper.  “Perhaps it’s best not to think about it.  In time, the Force may grant you insight.”

“I hope so,” Arlunia says, getting to her feet.  “I’ve got a migraine.  I think I’ll take a nap.”

“Let me know if you need anything,” Bastila says.  

Arlunia takes the time to smile at her, and it only twists Bastila up inside more.  “Thank you.”

Bastila exhales hard as she listens to Arlunia’s retreating footsteps.  This was never supposed to be difficult in this way.  While she trusts in the wisdom of the Council, she can’t help but think that it would be better to tell Arlunia the truth.  Either she’ll eventually figure it out on her own or else she’ll drive herself mad trying, neither of which seem good for the galaxy.  

Plus… she’s come to care for the other woman, even knowing who she used to be, even though Bastila sees the glimpses of her old self.  It’s more than their Force bond and different than friendship.  It’s something that Bastila knows that no Jedi should feel, and yet she can’t help herself.  

If only there was anyone she could talk to about this, then perhaps her burden could be lifted.  But she can’t talk to anyone on the ship about the secret she’s harboring.  She certainly can’t contact the Jedi masters about the feelings she’s having.  And she doesn’t have any friends from Dantooine to talk to, even if she could talk about Arlunia’s real identity.  

In a terrible twist of the Force, Arlunia is the closest friend she has, which means that she’s truly alone.  


End file.
